


three times dirk has spoken in a ridiculously soft voice and the one time it mattered

by nexusaurorae



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Help, M/M, Modern AU, are happy and in love, jake gets sicks, non-sburb AU, they fuck, they get engaged, they just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11631630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nexusaurorae/pseuds/nexusaurorae





	three times dirk has spoken in a ridiculously soft voice and the one time it mattered

Jake's lips curved gently at Dirk, peeping into their makeshift nursery. He had been asleep after a long day of taking of their new little one, and hadn't heard Dirk walk into the apartment. Though now, Jake was definitely awake, and leaning on the doorframe and smiling at his husband. 

Dirk had the pads of his fingertips gently rubbing the little baby's dark tummy, making odd but endearing noises as the child gurgled with joy and grabbed at their own toes with their soft, chubby fingers. He was talking to the little thing, but in a soft voice Jake barely heard from him, not usually outside of three situations: 

1\. Jake being terribly, terribly ill

This had only happened once.   
It was before the baby, in fact, before they were even engaged. Jake had been feeling oddly lightheaded all day, with other things such as a headache, strange back pain and lack of motivation. Though Dirk had expressed his concerns ("Jake, honestly, neither of us know what's wrong with you, sit the fucking fuck down," "Jeez, Dirk. I could fry an egg right now, I'm feeling dandy! There's no reason to worry!"), Jake had none of it and decidedly went to work (he was a maintenance man at the local school, he was in charge of all the front gardens, a fact that filled him with much pride and a fact he told people often, much to Dirk's misguided laughter). 

He returned home dehydrated, sick and lasted 4 minutes and 39 seconds before collapsing from a high fever, according to Dirk's muchly dramatic quipping the next day. 

Though when he woke, after collapsing, he was greeted with a pair of teary amber eyes and a deeply concerned face, blonde fringe plastered to a pale forehead from stress-induced sweat. 

"Jake," he had breathed, barely audible. Jake stared at him, before rubbing his eyes and analyzing that he was in fact, on his couch, in their newly rented apartment, with a deeply troubled boyfriend opposite him, on his knees, one hand gently below Jake's ribs, just to feel for sure that Jake was breathing. 

"D-do you need anything? A-are you going to pass out again?" he said, voice soft, tender, dare he say, hesitant? The fearless, unstoppable, katana wielding Dirk Strider hesitating before his sick boyfriend? Jake almost huffed a soft laugh. Damn that Strider and his godforsaken soft voice. Who could have blamed Jake for falling so hard? 

"No, I don't think so. And can you get me some water?" he asked, and Dirk had moved superhumanly fast to run to Jake's every command. However when Dirk returned, he came back with a glass of water, cold towels and a blanket, along with a bucket in case Jake threw up again.   
Jake looked up with gleaming, though slightly dulled with sickness, eyes. 

"Thank you," he had whispered, smiling. Dirk just put a pillow under his head and kissed the top of it. 

"Don't go pulling that shit on me again, Jake. You scared the living fuck out of me," he whispered, the kind softness in his voice fading, though Jake smiled anyway, before falling asleep hand in hand with him, "not going anywhere,". 

 

2\. Dirk being so, awfully, terribly alluring 

It had been just 'one of those days' in Jake's opinion.   
He had had to deal with annoying high schoolers doing drugs in the back corners of the school field, he missed his lunch break, he spilt coffee down himself, Dirk was away for a business trip and Jake… Jake needed a hug, and the world's largest cup of tea. 

He got home late (the traffic was terrible, as well as it raining cats and mighty dogs), and curled up in one of Dirk's old hoodies, and had a long, hard cry, sobbing and choked. He wanted to be held, to be cradled and to be told it was okay, and nobody was there for him, and-

He heard a ping from his phone in between sobs. 

Dirk <3, at 7:54pm: you free to skype?  
You, at 7:54pm: please, yes of course

No later than 0.4 of a second later, he received an incoming call from Dirk on his laptop. He accepted, teary cheeks buried in his fists, propped up by his elbows. 

"Hey," he said, plain and simple, no other words or strange metaphors to describe how he was feeling. 

"Hey, baby, what's wrong, you've been crying," he asked, and Jake coughed out a tiny sob. 

"It's just… been one of those days. And I need a hug, but I can't," he pouted at the webcam, "get one."

Dirk pulled a peculiar face. "I'm sorry, Jake, I… I can come home sooner? Though really, there's only one more session of the conference and then at 1pm tomorrow I'm on my way home," he said, assuming a similar position to Jake under the webcam. 

"I know, I know. Don't miss out for me. I'll be okay, I just… really miss you," he said. "I miss having you in bed with me, I miss kissing you, I miss… Hey, are you alone?" he asked, and for a very long moment, Dirk stared at him. 

"Yes… Why?" Dirk said, voice hushed to a tiny whisper. "What did you want to do?" 

Jake hesitated. "Can you just… talk to me?" he asked, fingers tapping together anxiously. 

"Jake, of course I can, you egg," he laughed, so easily and freely, until he saw Jake's expression. Dirk 's face darkened, eyes fluttering until he was looking at him with half lidded eyes, thin, pale eyelashes obstructing his eyes. 

"Oh, my baby wants to be dirty talked," he teased, biting his lip. 

Jake's heart rate quickened as he looked down under his glasses, cheeks tinting pink, nodding. 

"I can do that too," he whispered, voice in that stupid, low voice, dangerously soft. 

Jake looked up, eyes wide as saucers. "What would you do to me, if you were here?" he asked, voice hoarse slightly, unable to mimic Dirk's softness. 

Damn that Strider and his godforsaken soft voice. 

"Oh, baby," he gave a long, slow breath. "I'd take you apart," 

Jake gave a pathetic whine as he continued. 

"I'd kiss you senseless, laying you down on the bed, hovering above you just how you like. I'd kiss you until you felt dizzy, or begged me to hurry the fuck up, whichever comes second. And when I finally move, I'm flicking my tongue over the buds of your soft, round nipples, and you'd be moaning like a whore," 

Jake unceremoniously slid his hand down to the bow of his sweatpants and undid it, reaching down to touch him. 

The sight made Dirk hum. "Hm, you like that, pretty boy? You like me reminding you of how much of a good slut you are?" 

Jake could only moan. 

"No cumming for you until I say so, though," he said, soft but clear and firm. 

Once Jake had nodded his ascension, Dirk bit his lip a little. 

"I'd suck on your nips until you were leaking, pooling with your pretty slick coating your soft and beautiful tummy, and then I'd leave a trail of hickies down to your aching cock, claiming you. Because you're my slut," he paused, giving a short, quiet but desperate and wanton sigh. "And then I'd slow it right down, marking up your beautiful thick thighs until you come right undone. Maybe even make you cum just from that… Oh, you like that idea? Cumming untouched just from me sucking on your thighs, right near your cock, but not quite touching?" 

Jake gave an obscene moan as he thumbed his own slit, glasses taken off and eyes fixing on the now even blurrier image of Dirk. 

"Yes, sir," he moaned out. 

Dirk hummed. "Beautiful boy. Maybe then I'd start working you open, slowly. One finger. Two. Finally, three. You’d beg. You’d be a mess, legs spread like a whore’s. Hey, up. Breathe. There. Good.” he carefully made sure Jake wasn't holding his breath like he tended to do to stop himself from cumming. Jake did as told; anything for his Master.

Though, even deep into subspace, Jake could see Dirk's right hand no longer visible on the screen. 

"You have no idea what you do to me, I could fly right home and fuck you on the couch," he mused. "Or against the window, where everyone could see. I bet you'd like putting on a pretty show for everyone, wouldn't you?"

It only made him moan louder. His neighbours must hate him right now. 

"Then after that, shit, Jake, I'd go even slower, licking you clean, my tongue up your ass, with you writhing and moaning, whispering how good it feels. Does it feel good, baby boy?" 

Jake was going to lose his shit. He was so, so close. 

"I thought so. Are you close, fucking fuck, pretty boy?" 

Jake's mouth hung open where it lay awkwardly on his mattress, laptop propped up on his pillow. 

"Y-yes, sir, please, sir," he moaned, eyes half lidded. 

"Cum for me, baby boy," he said softly, humming almost. Jake gave a sharp cry as he came, and Dirk followed shortly after, hot, white, clean stripes up his belly. He lifted his laptop to show Jake. 

Jake appreciated it even when his every exhale was a soft whine. Dirk gave a soft laugh. 

"Now I really miss you," Jake whispered, smiling up at the camera, completely wrecked. 

"I miss you too, baby," he whispered.

 

 

3\. Jake doing something equal parts terrifying and amazing 

Jake had been pacing, step by step, all fucking day. It was annoying the fuck out of his co-worker, Jade Harley. They were both taking their lunch break, both sweaty and tired and either slumped in their plastic chair (Jade) or making tracks marks into the linoleum of the staff kitchen (Jake). 

"Jake. What the heck are you doing?" she asked, two fingers pressed to her temples as she tried to not lash out. 

"Jade. Tonight is the night I literally ask my boyfriend to marry me," he said, turning back to her, genuinely petrified. 

"Jake." she kept the pattern of their repeating first names in the same monotonous manner, "Chill. He's already married hypothetically, so-," 

"That was a hypothetical conversation we had only when we were severely under the influence!" he cried in a high falsetto, arms and palms raised in surrender to the cruel, divine being subjecting him to this anxiety. 

"He said he would totally marry you the next morning!" she replied, just as exasperated.   
Jake followed her lead and slumped into a plastic chair. 

"True,"   
-  
That night, both decked in suits and beautifully done hair, and both too busy staring at each other to actually pay attention to the play they were technically seeing. 

"You look dashing," Jake had whispered, leaning in close, breath hot on Dirk's neck. Dirk squeezed the tanned hand he already held, smiling, laughing at his knees, cheeks darkening a few shades.   
'  
"T-thank you. You do too," he replied, finally meeting Jake's eyes. Jake will admit, to this very day, that he swore he saw the rest of his life in those eyes; that, and all he could ask for and more. 

And that's when he knew he was making the right decision.   
-  
After, they talked lightly of the show, walking, guided by the moonlight. Jake took a second to appreciate how this scene was currently hitting every high branch on the trope tree as he led Dirk onto a small bridge over the equally small river, the moon hanging low in the sky, big and round but not quite as glassy as Dirk's lovestruck but also confused gaze and Jake kindly led him. 

"Come stand with me, I have important things to say to you," he said, and seeing Dirk's shift in expression, gave soft a soft laugh. "Gods, Dirk, no. I'm not breaking up with you. Quite the contrary, really," he said, resting his forearms on the railing of the bridge, before encouraging Dirk to do the same. 

"For four years now, I've had the great pleasure of being with you, Dirk Strider, as my boyfriend. Things haven't always been peachy, and we've definitely had our qualms-," �  
"Who the fuck says 'qualms', Jake, " Dirk interrupted. 

"I do, now shut it," he instructed, and Dirk huffed a soft laugh, before doing as told. "We had our… issues, but unlike most couples in the 21st century, we've never 'broken up'," he said, complete with oh-so-typically-Jake air quotes. 

"You've definitely slept on the couch some nights and we once didn't speak for north of three days but we never took it to the extent of actually leaving each other," he said, hands beginning to shake, running them through his hair nervously to hide it, rolling up his jacket and dress shirt sleeves as he spoke, pushing his glasses up his nose.   
"We've always chosen to stay together," he finalised on, and he watched Dirk shift in anticipation, sensing the crux of this small, romantic lecture with a surprising lack of Jake English-ish language nearing.   
"And now I'd like to ask to stay with me, stay together… forever?" he asked, fumbling the box out of his pocket, cursing quietly, and getting on one knee, finally opening the 'fricking box, sorry', whilst Dirk was rendered speechless, as Jake beared his all, everything he ever was, is, and will be, in the kneeling form before him. 

"So, will you, Dirk Strider, marry me? Not hypothetically this time," he gave a nervous laugh.   
Dirk just stared at him, a single tear dripping down his chin. It wouldn't have been the first time Jake had seen him cry, but it was more 'emotionally significant this time' as he would later put it, in his speech at their wedding reception. 

"Yes," he whispered, reaching for Jake's, neck, hands shaking like miniature earthquakes but so distinctly Dirk that Jake felt tears prick at his own eyes. 

Damn that Strider and his godforsaken soft voice. 

Jake could barely hear him, except for the low chant of 'yes, yes, oh god, of course I will' pressed to his chest, wrapped in his familiar, strong arms, holding him tight, slipping on a silver band, speckled with the tiniest orange and green gems.   
After millennia of hugging and soft kisses to necks and just being and crying a little from both parties, Dirk sniffed, pulling away. 

"We have to get you one too," he laughed, his voice thick with happy tears, once again, the soft, kind voice fading but hardly forgotten.


End file.
